


Fratricidia, Fratricidium

by Scotty1609



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Druid Matt Holt, Emotional Hurt, Family Angst, Family Feels, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gen, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Lance (Voltron) Speaks Spanish, M/M, Mental bonds, Minor Matt Holt/Shiro, Only for like one line though, Paladin Bond, Paladins as family, Past Brainwashing, Pidge | Katie Holt-centric, Protective Hunk (Voltron), Protective Keith (Voltron), Protective Lance (Voltron), Protective Shiro (Voltron), Seizures, Shiro (Voltron)-centric, Shiro has issues, Space family, Team as Family, Telepathic Bond, Telepathy, Temporary Character Death, Torture, maybe a lil bit of comfort, shiro calls pidge katie, shiro needs a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-22 12:36:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9607886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scotty1609/pseuds/Scotty1609
Summary: “P-Pidge? Pidge, nononono- Pidge, stay with us! PIDGE!” Lance's panicked shouts filled the intercom systems in the lions. Hunk started sobbing, and Keith was swearing wildly. “G-Guys, guys, she isn't breathing. Dios mio, she isn't fucking breathing!”Or else, Shiro and Pidge come across a familiar face, and neither of them come out unscathed.





	1. Shiro

**Author's Note:**

> "Fratricidia, Fratricidium" is late Latin for "Murder of a Sister, Murder of a Brother" O.O
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! Enjoy this little fic!!

Shiro let loose a low moan as his eyes fluttered open. His shoulders and back ached, along with his legs and- well, his _everything_ hurt. Especially his head, which by the feel of it was sluggishly bleeding down the side of his face. His first coherent thought was of the others, and it made him lurch into action. Standing to his feet, Shiro stumbled for a few steps before catching himself on a cool metal wall. He realized only then that his ankles were chained to the floor, and his prosthetic arm had been torn from its socket.

_Oh. So that's why my arm feels like it's being stabbed by a thousand knives._

He had been stripped of his armor, leaving only the black bodysuit beneath it to warm him in the chilly cell. A chilly cell that was horribly familiar. The dull purple glow lining the walls and flooring cast a glow over the room. About five by five feet, it was lined with what looked to be explosives. He snorted. _Typical, melodramatic Galra._

And then the memories started coming back to him, reminding him just why he was there.

They had picked up a signal from a Galra transport ship. After a few quick alterations to their communication systems, Coran had intercepted the Galras' radio transmissions. There were slaves aboard, nearly fifty of them, all from different planets and races. Pidge had jumped on the wagon to raid the ship immediately, thoughts of her brother and father running through her mind. Shiro had caught a spark of hope from her via the paladins' mind link, and with little coaxing from the younger paladins, he agreed to go on the rescue mission.

It was supposed to be an easy one. A shipment of weakened prisoners wouldn't call for more than five clusters of Galra soldiers and perhaps another fifty or so sentries. They had taken on three times that many before and come out (relatively) unscathed. They should have been able to do this within a few hours.

 _Should_ have.

But then Pidge had gotten a ninety-eight percent match for her brother on her gauntlet computer, and she _lost it_. Shiro- her partner for the mission- had to physically restrain the girl to keep her from plowing through everyone and everything in her way.

“Pidge,” Shiro had said her name sternly. “I get that you're anxious, but we need to play this smart. Hunk, Lance? What's your status?”

A crackling came over their helmet communicators, and then Hunk's chipper voice was speaking. _“We've located about ten of the captives. Lance is loading them on the blue lion as we speak.”_

Shiro smirked. “Great job, guys. Keith? How're things on your end?”

The sound of firefight echoed across the comms, and Keith's voice echoed through their ears. _“Having the time of my life!”_ he snarked. _“Think I could get some backup any time soon?”_

“Pidge is on her way.”

Pidge made a squawking noise in protest, but Shiro pushed her along. “Go. Your teammate needs you.”

“My _brother_ needs me-”

“ _Pidge_.” The name came out with a bit more force than was intended, and Shiro nudged the girl's shoulder gently in apology. “I will find Matt, and I'll bring him back.”

Eyes watering, the girl grabbed Shiro's arm. “ _Promise_.”

Shiro had squeezed her hand before dislodging it from his arm, motioning for her to get on with it. “I promise, Katie.”

It took her a moment to accept the words, but Pidge eventually nodded and turned to dart back down the maze of a ship towards where Keith's signal was coming from.

Shiro's memories blurred after that. He remembered finding more slaves, directing them down a hall that he knew was safe- he and Pidge had cleared out the sentries that guarded it- and informed the others of his status.

The hair on the back of his neck prickled, and he whirled around, arm at the ready. There was a purple-cloaked druid standing behind him, face hidden by their hood. A voice crackled outwards, and even though it had changed- was deeper, was darker, full of anger and a sickening glee- Shiro recognized it. He would recognize that voice anywhere.

In his stupor, Shiro's arm deactivated, which offered enough opening for the druid to send a crackling bolt of electricity at him. Shiro was thrown back, head coming in contact with a wall, and his vision went black.

 

His helmet had saved him too bad of a concussion, and he had to remind himself that even minor head wounds were prone to excessive bleeding. Armor nowhere to be found, his arm gone, ankles chained to the floor, and no helmet to contact his team, Shiro felt the familiar pang of fear rising in his gut. He quickly quelled it, shutting his eyes and reaching out with his mind.

The team-building exercises Allura and Coran put the paladins through had ended up being a major strength for their missions. With their mental bonds strengthening, they didn't need to use their lions to communicate with each other anymore. Sure, they couldn't read each others' thoughts per say (nor could they communicate if the recipient was unwilling, but they _all_ left their mental defenses down during missions for safety reasons), but they _could_ send hints of emotions to one another, images of things they saw, certain other senses activating in their mind-meld as well. Touch was handy, an easy way to express that one of them was injured, or smell, an indicator of fire or noxious gas that they all needed to steer clear of.

Closing his eyes, Shiro dug deep into his own self, sending brief flashes of the prison cell he was in. The phantom pain of his missing arm, the scent of the blood that came from his forehead. He received responses immediately- starbursts of anger from Pidge and Keith, a smooth stream of concern from Hunk, the sight of sentry bodies littering the floor from Lance- and smiled.

The jail cell rattled open, and a hand grabbed Shiro by the throat, slamming him into the ground. “Stop trying to communicate with your team,” the soldier snarled to him. And then he was being lifted up, a gun to his back and a sentry on either side of him. “Someone wants to talk to you. No funny business, alright?”

Keith and Pidge expressed relief, and Shiro understood from the brief emotion that they had done their part and emptied the west wing of guards. Keith sent a vision to Shiro- the feeling in his legs of two pairs of feet storming down the halls, the determination in his chest- and Shiro realized they were headed for his location.

The sentries tugged Shiro along, down the dimly lit halls, until they reached a large domed room with a clear sight to the stars outside. Eyes widening, Shiro realized that the room was _lined_ with sentries. There were at least thirty Galra soldiers, as well, all armed to the teeth. _This is_ _ **not**_ _a normal transport ship,_ Shiro told himself as he closed his eyes and once more sent an image to his teammates. A burst of _something_ from Lance could only be assumed to be colorful curses, and anger rose deep in Keith's belly.

There was a harsh _crack_ to the back of his head with the butt of a blaster, and Shiro was shocked out of the mental link. “Do that again, and I'll cut off your head.”

“Now, now...” came an eerie croon. “I'd like to speak with the Champion...”

Shiro's blood ran cold as ice when the druid from before approached him. He couldn't see past the druid's hood, but _that voice_. He would recognize that voice in his sleep.

“Matt...?” Shiro's voice came out in a pained whisper.

Laughter boomed through the room, and the figure lowered his hood. Immediately, Shiro threw up mental walls so that Pidge wouldn't see- he couldn't let her see her brother- not like this. _Not like this_.

Matt hadn't changed all that much, but the small things about him that _had_ were the things Shiro was concerned with. The older man's skin was still pale, freckles on his nose, and his hair was still the same shade of honey-brown that his sister also sported. But his _eyes_. His eyes were solid gold, glowing with the power that radiated from him. There were two horizontal red tattoos trailing from his temples to the corners of his lips, and crackling scars were barely hidden beneath the collar of his robes.

“It's good to see you, old friend.”

And the voice was Matt's, but it was so _wrong_.

Shiro shivered when Matt's hand reached out to stroke his cheek. Metal rings on his hands stretched out past his finger-pads and curved into sharp points. The cool steel had a crackling of power to it as they gently dug into Shiro's skin, deep enough to hurt but not enough to make him bleed. _Yet_.

Matt licked his lips, a habit so permanently burned into Shiro's mind that it had the mental walls he had erected cracking. Flashes of panic entered his mind from his teammates, and he could _feel_ the tightening of Pidge's chest as the girl sprinted towards his location.

“No,” Shiro croaked out, more towards the paladins than the druid in front of him. “ _No._ ” The panic that had been slowly rising within his gut was now choking him- and oh, so were Matt's hands- and blackness was spreading through his mind.

 _PIDGE!_ He was surprised when he heard his own voice _through_ the mind-meld, heard his dread filling the ears of the others. Surprise was the dominant emotion they sent back at him, followed by a morbid curiosity. _Pidge,_ Shiro repeated, squeezing his eyes shut even as Matt squeezed his fingers around the black paladin's throat. _Pidge, do **not** come into this room. That is a direct order._

Adamance and anger flashed through her.

_PIDGE. Do as I say-_

He saw through her eyes the large double doors that he was hidden behind, and his dread rose to full-out terror. _KEITH! Keith, do_ _ **not**_ _let her open those doors-_ _ **Do not come in here, Katie**_ _._

He felt Keith holding Pidge back, could actually hear Pidge's angry shrieks in real life, echoing through the doors behind him. The shouts made Matt's hand around Shiro's neck loosen, which was even worse than being choked because it meant the druid was standing up and walking towards the door and-

_GET OUT OF HERE! **NOW!**_

But then the doors were flung open with a flick of Matt's wrist. And Pidge was there, Keith's arms wrapped around her own. When the two caught sight of the figure standing before them, Keith's grip went slack and Pidge's face turned stark white. The pain in her chest was blinding, shooting out and making all of the paladins simultaneously flinch and clutch at their sternums.

“M- _Matt_ ,” she croaked, and then she was flying across the room. Flying, flying, flying- until suddenly she wasn't. Until her body impacted the wall with a sickening crack, and stars burst in her head, pain racing up and down her spine.

“PIDGE!” Shiro roared, throwing the sentries off his back. He and Keith made towards Matt full-force, but the druid only had to _look_ at them, and then they were being tossed to the ground like rag dolls. “ _PIDGE_!” Some invisible force was pinning them to the ground, as though the gravity in the ship had been increased ten fold. An iron vice was settling over the black and red paladins, making it impossible for them to rise up and help their teammate. They tried though, _oh_ they tried. Keith was roaring like mad, and if Shiro strained to see, he could watch the drop of Keith's fangs, the sudden yellow that popped up in his sclera, the purple tinge his skin was taking on. Shiro himself felt helpless, his single hand scratching at the floor for purchase. If he could only _move_ , if he could get to Pidge, get to Matt, then he could- he would-

He didn't know _what_ he would do.

“M-Matt,” Pidge sobbed out. She was out of Shiro's line of sight, but the mind meld was still growing strong. Matt's face- his scarred, darkened face- was twisted into a wicked smile that made all of the paladins shiver. “ _Matty_ ,” Pidge was weeping now, reaching for her brother's robes. “Matty, _please_ -”

The scream that tore from Pidge's throat made Shiro bite his tongue, drawing blood. He felt the electricity coursing through her body. Not nearly as bad as she was feeling it, he knew, but still strong enough to make him curse and writhe against the floor.

“P-Pidge!” Keith was screaming past his angered howls. “Pidge, _fight him_! You can do it- you can beat him! I _know_ you can! _PIDGE_!”

And then Hunk was sending the strongest emotions Shiro had ever felt at them- at Pidge- a sense of warmth, of belief, of encouragement. Lance imbued in them a strong-willed determination, shortly flanked by a passion to get up, to _fight_.

Shiro heard Pidge scrambling up from the floor, heard her bayard crackle to life. Matt laughed then, his voice taking back on its low croon. “So you're going to _fight_ me,” he chuckled. “Oh, how I've _longed_ for this day...”

The sound of fighting broke out, and Shiro wanted nothing more than to get up, to run to Pidge's side and wrench her away from the monster that was hurting her. But there was so much _pain_ inside of him. Matt, _his_ Matt, had been tortured, _brainwashed_. There was no other explanation- Shiro _refused_ to believe any other explanation. His Matt, his playful, intelligent, _perfect_ Matt, was stained, was tarnished.

A particularly loud shriek echoed through the room, which sent Keith wild once more. Shiro was finding it hard to think, hard to breathe, as the sounds of Pidge's gasps and grunts echoed through the room. They intermingled with Matt's cackling laughter, making the most horrendous melody Shiro had ever heard.

And then _Matt_ was the one screaming, a wretched noise that struck Shiro at how _human_ it sounded. It didn't sound like a brainwashed druid. It sounded like a Galra slave, a young man dressed in rags as he curled up against Shiro's side, the two holding on to each other because their lives depended on it. It sounded like the noise Matt had made when Shiro was dragged away to the fighting pit, being torn in the other direction towards the mines. It sounded like _his Matt._

But then, the screaming stopped. It was flanked by that terrible laugh, which only grew louder in the passing seconds. Pidge was gurgling, whether from blood in her lungs or the need for air, Shiro wasn't sure, but neither case sat well with him. “Not bad, little girl,” came the croon. “You fight with _passion_. You would be a blessing to our lord Zarkon's forces-”

“ _Never_ ,” Pidge spat.

This was the wrong answer.

The sickening _shlick_ of a blade entering flesh was something that Shiro came to knew perfectly from his time in the gladiator pit. As the Champion, he had been subject to that sound and caused that sound many a time. The strangled whimper that followed it- _Pidge's_ whimper- was the kicker. It was a noise Shiro _hadn't_ hear before, and it was a noise that he never wanted to hear again.

But then Lance and Hunk were there- wonderful, blessed Lance and Hunk- and their blasters were going _wild_. Hunk took out sentries left and right while Lance immediately began shooting at Matt, screaming at the top of his lungs in a mix of Spanish and Altean. Apparently he got in one lucky shot, because the _thud_ of Pidge's body against the floor was followed by Matt's pained snarl. “Insolent paladin!” the man growled at Lance, raising his hand to fill Lance's body with crackling electricity.

Just as the shot flew out, Pidge was there, absorbing the complete brunt of it into her small frame.

“ _PIDGE_!”

“ _ **KATIE**_!”

There was one final, deafening thump as Pidge fell against Lance's chest, her body spasming with the remnants of electricity that ran through her nervous system. Matt was grinning- Shiro could hear it in his voice- and then he said, “I suppose my work here is done.”

There was a sound similar to fire crackers going off. Shiro smelt sulfur.

Matt was gone.

A mere moment later, Pidge was gone, too. Her thoughts and emotions were no longer there, and the space in their minds reserved for the green paladin was just _empty._

Someone screamed.

The weight that had previously been sitting on his chest lifted, and Shiro took in a deep breath. Before he could even sit up, Keith was _off_. Shiro watched unfazed as the red paladin tore sentries to shreds with his bare hands. Hunk was fighting back-to-back with the other young man, his massive blaster shooting out stronger than ever before as it burned through bodies and left mere ashes in its wake. Shiro shook his head, trying to get a grip on himself.

When his vision finally cleared, the fight was over.

Hunk dropped his bayard and ran to Shiro's side, lifting the black paladin to a standing position. “How bad are you hurt?” the yellow paladin croaked.

“I'll be fine,” Shiro responded, inclining his head to where Lance was shielding Pidge's body from view. “Keith, check on them.”

Keith didn't have to be told twice, bounding over the bodies on the floor and coming to a sliding halt on his knees in front of Lance. The red paladin's face said everything his words couldn't. “We- we need to get her out of here,” he stammered, sounding more scared than Shiro liked to think about. “She's- she's bleeding out. _Shit_. Lance, hey- Lance! Snap out of it!” A sharp slap to the blue paladin's cheek set him into action. Lance bolted to his feet, Pidge cradled against his chest, and followed Keith towards the rest of their teammates.

When Shiro saw Pidge, he fought the urge to vomit.

Multiple lacerations and dents covered her armored breastplate. The thinner fabric of her bodysuit had been shredded under Matt's hands, and she was bleeding sluggishly from a myriad of cuts. The worst part of it all, however, was her face. Eyes rolled into the back of her head, the girl's face was still twitching from her electricity-induced seizure. The lenses of her helmet had been shattered, the shards embedded in her cheeks and brow bone. Blood trickled from her nose and coated her teeth, mouth open in a silent scream.

“Shiro.” Keith grabbed the black paladin's stump of an arm as gently as he could. “Can you make it to the lions?”

“Y-Yeah,” the man stammered. “Pidge?”

“She's still breathing,” Lance informed him. “But she needs medical attention. _Now_.”

“Got it covered, big guy,” Hunk grunted. A loud mechanical roar filled the room, and then the domed ceiling was crashing down around them. The yellow and red lions were there, the black lion hovering just behind. “Let's load up. Shiro, can you pilot?”

Hunk was referring to his missing arm.

“I'll manage.”

They loaded up, kicking away Galran and sentry bodies alike- Keith gave a particularly sharp stomp to one unconscious soldier's ribs, making a crack and a howl fill the room. Shiro couldn't bring himself to care about the red paladin's bout of rage, though. The bond showed that they all were filled with it. Rage, disbelief, terror- a hint of hope from Hunk, an image the cryo-pods filling all of their minds- were so violently blatant in each and every one of them.

But then they were in the lions, and they were flying back to the Castleship, and the cryo-pods and Coran and Allura were there waiting for them, waiting for Pidge-

“P-Pidge? Pidge, nononono- Pidge, stay with us! _PIDGE_!” Lance's panicked shouts filled the intercom systems in the lions. Hunk started sobbing, and Keith was swearing wildly. “G-Guys, guys, _she isn't breathing_. _Dios mio_ , she isn't fucking breathing!” There was a scrambling noise and a thump, and then Shiro could feel Lance's breath in his chest, inhaling and exhaling, filtering through Pidge's mouth and trying to bring her back to life.

They landed in the hanger of the Castleship, Allura and Coran already there and armed with medical supplies and a crash-cart. Lance had to be bodily dragged away from Pidge's unmoving form. He sobbed into Hunk's neck, and the yellow paladin did the only thing he could and held his friend close. Keith came to support Shiro as the man stumbled about, his equilibrium still off-balance.

“Concussion,” Keith confirmed with a tight voice. “You need a healing pod.”

“K-Katie, is she-”

“Coran and Allura are with her. They'll- they'll get her back online, Shiro, they- _they have to_.”

Not a moment too soon, Allura let out a cry of relief and announced, “She's breathing!”

And then Shiro and Pidge were carted to the cryo-chamber, stripped of the remnants of their armor as they were forced into pods next to one another. The last thing Shiro saw before he passed out was Keith burrowing his face in Lance's neck, shoulders shaking with wretched sobs.

And he was out.

 

 

 


	2. Pidge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pidge's POV of the events in the previous chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: this chapter had not been beta'd. I also have not edited it thoroughly, because I'm trying to pump out this story ASAP. Anyhow, please enjoy!! ((warnings are same as previous chapter))

The sounds of firefight over their comms made Pidge wince, especially when she felt the anxiety bubbling up in Keith's chest behind her own breastplate.

“ _Having the time of my life!”_ the red paladin growled. Pidge snorted, earning a sideways look from Shiro. _“Think I could get some backup anytime soon?”_

“Pidge in on her way.”

Pidge squeaked indignantly at the promise, turning to round on Shiro. She had found her brother- he was _here_ , she could _feel it_ \- and Shiro was demanding her to go in the exact opposite direction of Matt's last known location. Pidge opened her mouth to object, but Shiro's hand forced her to turn in Keith's direction.

“Go,” he commanded the green paladin, “your teammate needs you.”

Pidge could feel icy anger freeze over her stomach, and by the looks of his face, Shiro could feel it, too. “My _brother_ needs me-”

“ _Pidge_.” Pidge winced at her name being used so harshly, and Shiro- noticing her flinch- sighed and rested a hand on the green paladin's shoulder. “I will find Matt.” His voice was gentler, a half an octave lower.

Unable to fight off the feeling of distress, Pidge allowed the tears to well in her eyes. “ _Promise_ ,” she hissed to her leader, clutching his wrist in both of her hands.

“I promise, Katie.”

With that, Shiro gestured for the girl to get going. Placated for now, Pidge turned tail and sprinted towards Keith's coordinates. On her way through the maze of a ship, the green paladin encountered at least five sentries and another two Galra guards. _This isn't right..._ she thought with a frown, downing a sixth sentry with her bayard. _There shouldn't be this many soldiers. Not from what Allura and Shiro said..._

Turning one more corner, Pidge saw Keith surrounded by no less than ten Galra and twice that in sentries. “Keith!” she hollered over the din of fighting. “Springboard!”

Without missing a beat, the red paladin performed a sweep-kick to clear the area around himself, hunching over table-top as Pidge full-out sprinted towards his back. When her light foot impacted his armor, Keith abruptly stood, which launched the girl over the heads of three sentries. Using her body as a cannonball, Pidge thanked Heavens that Hunk had reinforced all of their armor as she dropped down like a weight on top of the sentries. Once she was sure they were down for the count, Pidge rolled off and appeared back next to Keith. The two arms of Voltron fought back-to-back, neck-and-neck with their enemies, until no one was left standing.

“Thanks,” Keith panted, wiping sweat from his neck.

“Don't mention-”

Both paladins were suddenly gasping and clutching at their helmets as a sharp pain twanged through the mental bond. Hunk sent out a signal of alarm, while Lance's frustration and concern shined through. Those two being fine, Keith and Pidge looked at each other and knew in that moment-

“Shiro!” they exclaimed in tandem.

The two raced down the halls back towards where Pidge had left their leader. The green paladin was pulling up the tracer in Shiro's suit, trying in vain to locate him within the ship. “Something must be interfering with his suit's interface!” she grunted, leaping over a sentry body. Keith snarled next to her.

“ _Find_ him!”

“I'm _try-_ ”

Pidge let out a sharp gasp, stopping so abruptly that Keith nearly bowled her over. Her hair was standing on end as though she had just received an electric shock. She was fine, though, as was Keith next to her. Lance was still beaming images of Galra soldiers to them, and Hunk was still panicking over their link. “ _Shiro_...” Keith whispered, and Pidge chose to ignore the fear in the red paladin's voice as not to embarrass him.

“He's fine,” Pidge tried to convince her teammate, despite the fact that Shiro's essence had gone dark in the mental bond. “He's fine. And- _ah ha_!”

“What?!”

“I've got his signal!”

“What are you waiting for, then?!”

Huffing at Keith, Pidge grabbed the red paladin's wrist and started leading him through the halls at top-speed. Purple lights flew by their heads. Their feet leaped over sentry parts and Galra bodies. As Keith's hand enclosed around hers, Pidge could feel claws poking through the boy's gloves and nicking at her own skin. A glance over at her teammate confirmed Pidge's assumption- Keith was having issues controlling his shift. Fangs threatened to poke out from his upper lip, and his eyes were glowing yellow.

“Keith,” Pidge spoke lowly. “He's fine.”

The red paladin looked at her with a funny gaze before sighing and smirking at her. “Thanks. Your brother is okay, too, y'know.”

“You think?”

“Yeah. I do.”

In the confusion of all of the paladins' thoughts meshing together, Shiro's essence going dark, and Keith's shift distracting her, Pidge hadn't noticed that Shiro's and Matt's trackers were so close together. And she didn't notice until they came to rest outside the large double doors which led to the ship's deck. “M-Matt...” Pidge hissed, eyes wide at the positioning radar.

“What?” Keith's face clouded over. “I thought you were leading us to Shiro! Not-”

“They're both in there,” Pidge's words rose in intensity as she repeated, “They're both in the-”

_'PIDGE!'_

The green paladin let loose a sharp gasp and stumbled backwards when Shiro's voice rang out in her mind. Over the months, the paladins had all grown in their mental bonds. Some of them shared stronger bonds than others- Keith and Lance, Lance and Hunk, Keith and Shiro- and some of them excelled in certain domains of mental communication. Lance was skilled at sending images to mark his intent, while Hunk preferred to stay with emotions. And apparently, Shiro was capable of actual _speech_.

_'Pidge,'_ Shiro repeated her name quieter, but with just as much force, _'Pidge, do **not** come in this room. That is a direct order.'_

_Order?!_ Pidge wanted to scream at Shiro. She could only hope he was hearing her thoughts. _My brother is in there! **You** are in there! Why can't I join you?! _Rage flowed through her body, and Pidge could feel Hunk wincing across the link.

_'PIDGE. Do as I say-'_

She cut Shiro off by sending him an image of the set of doors that lay in front of her. Shiro suddenly sent a burst of horror out, and the entire team began to sweat. _'KEITH! Keith, do_ _ **not**_ _let her open those doors-'_

The red paladin's hand grabbed onto Pidge's arm, and she haphazardly swung a fist at him.

_' **Do not come in here, Katie**.'_

_Oh, so we're using first-names now, Takashi?!_ She knew no one else could hear her, but the girl felt slightly more vindicated at the thought. Keith was still holding tight to her arm, and Pidge began to shout curses at him and swung her fist wilder. She pegged him in the gut, but Keith merely grunted and pulled the girl into a bear-hug, keeping her arms at her sides.

“LET ME GO!” she screamed at him. “LET ME GO! SHIRO! MATT! _MATT!_ ”

And then the doors were slamming open. Pidge felt Keith's grip go slack around her, heard the gasp fall from his lips. She looked up and-

_No._ Pain and fear bolted through her, and she felt the rest of her team wince.

Matt was there- only it wasn't _him_. His skin was paler, and his collarbone and neck were covered in scars. There were twin red tattoos leading down the front of his face, and his smile was cruel. What was the worst though was his _eyes_. A sickeningly familiar shade of dark gold, his eyes glowed as his wicked grin pointed at her. Those dark eyes radiated poisoned quintessence, and Pidge opened her mouth to sob out her brother's name. It came out in more of a broken croak though, as her throat had suddenly gone dry.

“M- _Matt_.”

Suddenly she was in the air. Something sharp had hit her side, had torn up flesh, had flung her into the air and she was flying, slamming into a wall. It cracked under the force of her blow, and any oxygen in her lungs left in a _woosh_. Her helmet saved her skull from the impact, but her ears still rang and her neck still twinged as she fell to the ground, propped up on her elbows and knees. “G-Gah...” Pidge groaned. Distantly, she heard someone shout her name- was it Shiro or Keith?- but then she was distracted once more by _him._ It was Matt, but it wasn't- she didn't want to call him Matt, didn't want to call him her brother. A horrible part of herself wished that she had never found him.

The druid came to stand in front of her- what had happened to Keith and Shiro?- and beamed down at her. “M-Matt,” Pidge sobbed out. “ _Matty._ Matty, _please_ -” Her soft sobs had transformed into a sickly sort of open weeping. Her eyes were soaked, her nose snotty and runny. She reached for his robes, and as soon as her fingers touched the fabric, a pulse of electricity ran through her body. Pidge could smell her hair burning, could hear someone screaming- was it her, or was it someone else?- could see the gleam in Matt's eye as he reached down and lifted her by the collar to her paladin uniform. Despair filled the girl's chest, and she hung her head-

Hope. Belief. Encouragement. _Love_.

Pidge gasped when Hunk's emotions broke through her depressive dam, flooding over into her chest. And then Lance was there, too, in her mind and in her heart, armed to the teeth with determination, with a passion to live, with a _will to_ _fight_.

Pidge kicked out and grunted, her foot coming in contact with Matt's hand and making him drop her. She scrambled into a defensive position with her bayard before the man could strike out again. A deep rumble came from Matt's throat, one that Pidge had longed to hear for months, years- but also one that she _never_ wanted to hear again.

“So you're going to _fight_ me...” A cackle. “Oh, how I've _longed_ for this day...”

Before the words could strike themselves as strange to Pidge, she was dodging a metal-clawed hand to the throat. And the dance began. Pidge jumped and dodged, swiping out with her crackling bayard whenever she could. In turn, Matt gave her just as many cuts and slashes as she _attempted_ to give him. The metal rings that stretched over his fingertips were soon dripping with Pidge's blood, and the druid seemed to thrive off of it.

Pidge went to perform a sweep-kick, hoping to knock Matt off his feet, but just as she crouched down, a heavy-handed fist impacted her helmet. Previously, the green paladin had thought their visors impenetrable. But now, as the glass in front of her eyes shattered and splintered out to impact the flesh around her eyes, she realized there would be a long conversation with Allura about updating the team's armor.

The pain wasn't unbearable, but it was so shocking and so sharp that Pidge couldn't help but scream. In the background somewhere, Shiro was echoing her shouts and Keith was mindlessly roaring. Matt cackled, and something inside of Pidge _snapped_.

She could feel Hunk's fear, could see Lance's running feet, could feel Shiro's pain and Keith's raw anger. But it all filtered away slowly, leaking out of her ears and leaving her with an odd sense of calm. Hot blood was dripping down her cheekbone, but one of her eyes was still operable. She had a chance. With all the will her body could muster, Pidge pulled into a standing position and _lunged_.

Matt's cackles filled the air as she swung her bayard left and right. She was fighting haphazardly, but it couldn't be helped what with her injuries. While Matt waltzed around, Pidge stalked. With every step she took, the green paladin was getting closer and closer. And the druid could sense it.

“ _RAUGH_!” Matt's scream filled the arena, and Pidge wanted to cheer and puke at the same time.

She had hit him.

She had hurt her _brother_.

The scream was one of pain, of agony. It was the scream Pidge heard when she was four and Matt fell down a hill off his bike. It was one Pidge heard when a car hit their first dog. It was one that Pidge _never_ wanted to hear. _Ever_.

But then the scream was turning into a cackle, and what once was calm in Pidge's chest turned into a raging storm of terror. Within moments, Matt's hand was wrapped around her throat, and she was being held up in the air. Dangling there, Pidge realized that it had all been a game. Matt was _letting_ her fight, had _allowed_ her to hit him. He could kill her at any moment. He had been _toying_ with her. She had never stood a chance.

“Not bad, little girl...” the druid crooned to her, making Pidge flinch in his grasp. His hand tightened, and she coughed and gurgled. Blood welled in the back of her throat, dripping over the corner of her lips. It matched the trickles of blood that were leaking from cuts marring each of her limbs, the waves of blood that coated her side and the four claw-marks that Matt had left there. “You fight with _passion_ ,” Matt continued. “You would be a blessing to our lord Zarkon's forces-”

“ _Never_.”

Pidge barely had time to register the polar switch that occurred. One moment, Matt's face had been grinning at her wickedly, and the next, only ice-cold deathliness was left. A knife, one that she hadn't seen clasped upon his hip, was suddenly in the druid's hand. And then it was in her stomach. A burning sensation filled her torso, and- unbidden to her- pain shot out through the paladin link. Hunk and Lance cried out to her, and Shiro's shout was drowned out by Keith's howl. Choked as she was, on the brink of passing out like she was, Pidge couldn't speak. She only whimpered, her good eye shutting tightly to dry and block out the scene of her big brother holding a blade inside her.

The double-doors burst open, and Pidge's eye was snapping right back open. Lance and Hunk entered like conquerors, opening fire and bellowing out curses at everyone who stood in their way. Pidge's eyes met Lance's, and then the blue paladin was firing at Matt. The druid shrieked and dropped Pidge, her body jarred as it impacted the floor.

“Insolent paladin!” Matt snarled, whirling around to face Lance with pink electricity crackling to life in his hand. Pidge should have shouted out a warning, should have tried to knock Matt over, but her body was moving before she could process those other choices. Even with blood soaking her side, running down her legs in rivulets and making her mind go foggy, she stood and flew by the druid, intercepting the blast meant for Lance.

“ _PIDGE_!”

“ _ **KATIE**_!”

Her small frame was seizing with the electricity that ran through it. Her hair was burning again, as was her flesh by the smell of it. Muscles spasmed, nerves ignited, and bones creaked as Pidge fell for the umpteenth time. This time, however, she fell into someone's chest rather than to the cold floor. Arms wrapped around her, and she could vaguely hear someone whispering to her- no, shouting. It just sounding like whispering what with the fish-bowl effect her brain was giving off.

She was bleeding, was burning, was _hurting_ and everything was pain, pain, pain, pain-

And then nothing.

The blackness spread on for hours, for _days_. She was floating in a void, limbs relaxed and heart still. Nothing hurt anymore, and she didn't care about anything. Not about her brother, not about Shiro or her team, not about Voltron or the rest of the multiverses. She was at _peace_.

Until Allura's hands appeared on her chest, and then the pain was back. She felt the princess pressing air into her lungs, their dry lips pressed together. Emotions burst forth from Pidge's entire team, and the overwhelmingness of it all made her pass out once more.

The last thing she felt before she went was the shaking of Keith's shoulders as the red paladin tried not to cry, and the fearful tentativeness in Shiro's gaze upon her.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well! I hope you enjoyed! I'll try to update the last chapter within the week, but I'm a college student as well as writing these ficlets, so please forgive any delays! :)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm thinking about writing a second part from Pidge's POV... Thoughts?
> 
> You can check out the rest of my fics here on AO3! Or you can check out my tumblr at: http://scotty-1609.tumblr.com/
> 
> Thanks again so much for reading! I'll try to update more fics soon. :)


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